Tänka
by OpenMindedCranberry
Summary: Wonderland AU. Pewdie and friends protect the land from Barrels, TNM, and Bros. But a new threat has appeared, a masked boy named Cry who is suddenly changing the lands and putting Piggeh, Mr. Chair, Stephano, and Jennifer in danger whether he realizes or not! Pewdie swears to eliminate this threat... But is Cry who he seems? Is Pewdie? Is any of this even real? T for safety !
1. 1: A Boy Named Felix

**Title****:** Tänka _[according to google translate, this is a common translation of 'imagine' in its verb form]_

**Author:** OpenMindedCranberry

**Author's Note:** _Hello everyone! I'll try to keep these short since I don't want to torture those who actually read these rather than skipping right past it… But anyways, I make no promises with updates as I'm a very spontaneous, unpredictable person at heart and am dealing with issues and – well – life! However, I do not plan to abandon this story as of now. This is my first time writing any type of fanfiction about my favorite youtubers and I am still unsure whether or not it's something I really want to do… But anyways, enjoy~! And do not hesitate to leave questions, comments, or suggestions!_

_Flames also keep my toes toasty~! So please, do not hold back! ^-^ I like reasonable criticism._

**Chapter One: Prologue: A Boy Named Felix**

A long time ago, you were once a little Swedish boy named Felix who had been kicking the back of your father's car seat in excitement as he drove you and your mother to a local diner where the three of you were going to celebrate your fourth birthday with cake and ice cream. You don't really remember much of that day, but you do remember your mom scolding you for getting too wild and distracting your father from the road and threatening to make you wait in the car if you didn't settle down. You also remember crying either about that or the fact that you were scared because there was a truck _right there_ it was headed towards the front of your car and _why wasn't daddy getting out of the way?!_ You're not sure what happened after that. You think maybe you had closed your eyes or something because everything went dark as the loudest, ugliest noise you'd ever heard in all your life roared in your ears. You remember feeling like you were taking a bath; when you opened your eyes everything was red, including mommy and daddy. You also remember – for some reason – not moving and trying to sit as still as possible. Maybe you didn't want mommy to yell at you again. Maybe you couldn't move. Maybe some human instinct made your body lock up on itself. Or maybe you were just too scared to move. But you sat there, listening to sirens screaming in the distance, and you sat there as quietly and as motionless as you could, listening to your own heartbeat and a _plip, plip, plip, _as some of the red stuff dripped from the car ceiling onto the leather seats. You had felt yourself growing tired, but you refused to close your eyes until you saw a man and a woman reach into the car and start feeling your mom and dad's pulses. Only then did you let your eyes close and your head drop, embracing the darkness and escaping all the red. The world disappeared around you.

But that was a long time ago. That was before you became the great Pewdiepie, before you met your friends Piggeh, Mr. Chair, Jennifer, and Stephano, and before you all became a protector of this place you now called home! You remember – it couldn't have been long after the accident – waking up in this place, where everything you could have ever wanted and more started to come true. For example, you had always wanted to have the best of friends, and now you do! Also, you remember wanting to be a hero, and now you are (considering it's nearly daily that you and your friends are fighting the Barrels, Bros, and Teleporting Naked Men)!

" 'Ello, Pewdie!" That was Stephano. You turned, looking down the hill at the older golden boy who made his way up the hill towards you.

You grinned, waving excitedly, "Hey, Stephano!"

"What do you think you're doing all the way up here by your lonesome?!" Stephano exclaimed, appearing angry but you knew he was just worried. It seems as if ever since you'd gotten here Stephano was always trying to protect you and keep you from doing anything he decided was "stupid."

"Just thinking," you replied with a shrug. "I already checked the place out earlier today with Mr. Chair, and there weren't any Bros, Barrels, or TNM around!"

Stephano nodded, "Good call. But what were you thinking about that you had to be all the way up here alone to do so?"

Your smile dimmed a bit. "Oh, you know, just seeing if I could remember anything else from Before."

Stephano nodded in understanding. "Ah, very well then… Shall I leave you, or would it not be a problem if I sat with you?"

You laughed, patting the grass beside you. "Sit down, bro!"

Stephano sat; looking slightly disgruntled at your signature name you call all your friends. You know he doesn't like how you call your friends a name shared with the enemy, but you figure he'll soon get over it. Just like he's gotten over all your other quirks – or gotten used to them, at least. You remember when you first opened your eyes After, finding yourself in this strange new world where you wandered around for what seemed like days before being chased by the Bros into the awaiting arms of Stephano, your best friend. He'd been younger back then. You both had. Whereas you'd only just turned four, Stephano must have been ten at least. Nevertheless, he picked you up and raced off with you in his arms as the two of you fled the Bros and made it to his camp, where you met Piggeh, Mr. Chair, and Jennifer. Jennifer was closer to Stephano's age, but still a bit younger. Piggeh and Mr. Chair were both around the six-to-seven age. You've been with them ever since, fighting Bros, Barrels, and TNM together.

You hear Stephano cough and you're jolted out of your thoughts with a cough, making you open your eyes and look around at the darkening skies, taking in the chilly air. You stand, smiling down at your friend who you probably owe your life to. "C'mon, bro, let's go find the others and get some shuteye, yeah?"


	2. 2: The Problem

**Title:** Tänka [according to Google translate, this is a common translation of 'imagine' in its verb form]

**Author:** OpenMindedCranberry

**Author's Note: **Hey, guys! The only time I ever get mail is when I'm notified of one of you fellow bros following this story, favorite(ing), or favorite(ing) _me_ (that was really awesome, can't think off the top of my head who did that awesome thing, but you are a wonderful, awesome, person whoever you are!). Anyways, I understand the first chapter was a bit rough so I hope this one is loads better! :D

Chapter Two: The Problem

The five of you were kicking ass when it happened.

You and Stephano were back to back, facing the enemy that had circled around you and were pressing in. Despite the initial appearance of the situation, you all had it under control and your friends' laughter was a testament to that. You kept up a running commentary of you ridiculing the enemy as you stepped out of the way of what would have been a rather nasty right hook. You retaliated by ramming your small pocket knife into the eye socket of a nearby Bro, smiling through the gap of the enemy lines at Piggeh, who had just pounced on an enemy, wrapping all of his limbs around the torso of said enemy before viciously beating the TNM upside the head with a crow bar. Then the gap was filled with one of those fucking Barrels, who just appeared out of nowhere, and you were back to work.

It wasn't unusual for the five of you to be ganged up on like this. In fact, it happened more often than not. The seemingly endless waves of enemy were not out of the norm, either. However, what was a little strange was the appearance of the enemy. It seemed as if with every new wave, the enemy was sporting some sort of physical feature that had not been there before. The Bros' were now grinning, Glasgow smiles stretched gruesomely wide, lips falling unnaturally over crooked, broken, teeth. The TNMs' eye sockets were visible, taking up most of their face as they seemed to stare at you somehow with the empty holes in their heads. The Barrels' sunglasses were broken if not missing, faces pushing against their insides and pushing outwards all over their bodies, some smiling, others frowning, most screaming. It was horribly gruesome in most cases and you found yourself very confused and nervous as the enemy seemed to get harder and harder to beat.

"Eh, Pewdie?" Stephano questioned breathlessly behind you.

"Yeah, bro?" You tried to keep your voice even.

"I think the others are starting to have trouble, yes? We should start thinking of leaving." Stephano said, nodding towards the others who were, indeed, struggling. You nodded in agreement, turning quickly to step on Stephano's outstretched, clasped, hands and you were suddenly launched into the air, landing outside of the circle of the enemy that began to close in on your best friend.

You weren't too worried. Stephano was very capable and had even hinted in the past of having been doing this for a while now. You waved at your friend, who smiled at you reassuringly, and silently wished him good luck before turning and taking off towards Piggeh and Mr. Chair who were practically getting wiped on the floor by their opponents.

Mr. Chair was getting nearly crushed as the enemy climbed atop him, straddling him, some pinning him down by sitting on his arms or legs, while a Bro tried its best to smash his face in with its fist. Piggeh was being manhandled, pulled backwards by a bunch of TNM, all the while screaming at the Bro and the others who were climbing atop Mr. Chair.

"Get off of him, you bastards! Stop touching him, that's my job!" Piggeh was kicking, spitting, scratching whatever he could reach, and even biting at the hands that pulled at him.

You leapt into the mess, knocking one of the TNM's off of Piggeh before turning back for Mr. Chair. You pulled a crowbar out of your belt loop before bashing the Bro over the head with it, hearing a yelp come from Piggeh behind you. You glanced over your shoulder to see a TNM with a hand halfway up Piggeh's shirt before Piggeh gave him a fake sultry grin, practically purring, "Piggeh _slide_," and then the pink-haired boy was falling like liquid or smooth sand out of the TNMs' grip before picking his dropped hammer up off the forest floor. You turned back to the Bro, only to be startled as a hand grabbed your throat, hoisting you up into the air, legs swinging.

Mr. Chair sputtered, blood flying from his mouth, – and if that wasn't scary enough, when he talked it sounded like he was _drowning_ in it – "No! Pewds!" He tried to sit up, struggle against the TNM, but one easily slid off of his arm and onto his chest, where it leered down at him and snagged a hand through his hair, knocking his green beret off.

Jennifer screamed somewhere off in the distance shortly after you heard an almost inaudible, ugly, snapping noise. You wondered if she was okay as the world started going dark around you, the idea of struggling suddenly too far to grasp. Your limbs moved sluggishly before suddenly not moving at all and you hung limply in the Bro's grasp, chest burning from lack of oxygen.

Before you could fall into unconsciousness, you caught sight of a pale white face over the shoulder of the Bro, off into the distance. You blinked slowly, taking in the crouched figure, and just as your eyes started to shut, you saw him _move_.

The world around you seemed to waver just before the hand at your throat disappeared, allowing air to rush back into your lungs as you hit the ground hard. You gasped and wheezed, curling into yourself as you breathed in the earthy smell of the grass and damp dirt beneath you. "That was a close one," Stephano said somewhere above you. But wasn't he on the other side of the clearing you five had been fighting in?

"Hey, Pewds?" Mr. Chair sounded worried and there was a hand rubbing circles on your back. "You're alright, yeah? Not gonna die or anything, right?"

You opened your eyes, smiling at your friends who stood around you. Mr. Chair's glasses were cracked, left lens covered in blood, and you noticed his left eye starting to swell shut. You spotted a few vessels that had burst in that eye, turning the white completely red. It looked painful. His lip was split and his right cheek didn't appear _right_. You're sure that when Stephano looked at it later, the golden man would find something broken underneath his skin. Piggeh didn't look much better with his clothes torn and bruises covering nearly every inch of the visible skin. His ribs looked the worst, though, swelling and turning an ugly myriad of colors. Definitely broken, if the way he held himself up didn't clue anyone in. Your gaze finally fell on Jennifer, who grinned at you under a wash of dried blood that was smeared down her entire face, the source of it being a nasty cut across her forehead. Her arm hung at her side in an awkward position – broken. You close your eyes, flinching at the sight of the three, before turning to Stephano. Miraculously, despite the copious amounts of blood drenching his clothing, he seemed rather unharmed if you looked past the busted knuckles and dislocated thumb which were surely his own doing.

"I'm fine," you croak, throat sore, "Though you guys don't seem to look too good yourselves."

"Dude, we're fine." Piggeh waved his concern off, rolling his eyes. "But, _dudes_, did you _see _me?! I was like, 'Aint _nobawdy_ but Mr. Chair gonna touch me like that, _especially_ some random TNM!' And I freakin' beat their asses! They totally had no clue what was coming at them when Piggeh slid out of their hands. It was fucking beautiful."

Mr. Chair's eyes rolled, but a smile worked its way across his face nevertheless. "Yeah, yeah… You were pretty slick…. But what about Stephano? He did most of the work, sliced the Bros heads clean off!"

Stephano blushed. "It was nothing. I was nervous to see you all so helpless at the hands of the enemy."

Jennifer put her hands on her hips. "Who you callin' helpless? I totally had that handled. They were gonna get _crushed_ by me, if I'd have had another minute or so! But _nooooo, _you had to leap in like some kind of hero! That guy was _mine_."

Piggeh snorted. "With another minute, it would have been your _neck_ that'd been snapped and not your arm, girly."

Jennifer turned to you, whispering, "He's lying. I totally had that handled." Then she batted her eyelashes at you a few times before turning to glare heatedly at Piggeh. You cleared your throat, ignoring your friends' fighting. You stood up and rolled your shoulders, looking off towards the edge of the clearing, wondering if what you'd seen earlier had been a figment of your imagination.

"Oi, Pewdie? You sure you are fine?" Stephano asked, snapping fingers in front of your face.

You jumped a little before smiling reassuringly at him. "Me? Oh, yeah, I'm fine, bro. Let's move to higher ground and set up camp, yeah?"

The four of them shouted their agreement, Piggeh even fist pumping the air while doing so before wincing slightly in pain. He gave you a bloody grin, "I'm pumped!"

**Quick A/N: I hope this chapter went over better than the last! I also I hope I didn't disappoint anyone with a certain character's dialogue. If you have any suggestions, feel free to comment or PM me!**


	3. 3: Winding Down For the Night (or not)

**Title:** Tänka [according to Google translate, this is a common translation of 'imagine' in its verb form]

**Author:** OpenMindedCranberry

**Note**: Thank you all so much for the favorites and follows! I'm sorry that this chapter is a bit late, I never really set up a date when I would post it by and so I kept putting it off. Thank you, FLUFFY EEVEE, an anonymous reviewer, for reviewing and asking when the next chapter would be posted… That got my ass into gear despite it being almost a week and a half since you reviewed. I hope none of you have given up on my story. Anyways, enough talk, onto chapter three!

**Chapter Three: Winding Down for the Night**

The five of you were just finishing pitching the tents in an elevated clearing surrounded by thick woods (you had four tents; one that Mr. Chair and Piggeh shared, one that Jennifer got to herself because she was a girl, and you and Stephano had your own despite originally sharing one a few years ago, when the both of you had been much younger and smaller) when you unanimously decided it was time to get injuries looked at and dinner served. Stephano walked around the fire pit where the four of you sat and taped Piggeh's ribs, which was actually pretty funny despite the fact that your friend was injured.

Piggeh rubbing his foot up Stephano's calve while declaring that the golden man could come have a sleepover with him and Mr. Chair anytime was hilarious to watch. But what was funnier yet, was Stephano declining the offer and joking that he wouldn't want to disappoint the company he was having tonight (at this you fist pumped, exclaiming, "_Yeah!_ Stephano gets all the ladies!" and Stephano flushed and laughed alongside everyone else). Stephano then moved on from Piggeh after he'd expertly taped the pink-haired boy's ribs and instructed him to be careful (_"Please, _there is no way I'm letting a minor injury like this get in the way of me having fun. After all, I wouldn't want to disappoint poor Mr. Chair over here, right, babe?" Piggeh nudged the blushing brunette, and Stephano gave him a warning glare. "Doctor's orders," Stephano pressed, and Piggeh nodded quickly once he noticed the look that was being thrown his way by the golden medic).

Your golden friend then moved onto Jennifer, putting her arm into a sling and bandaging her forehead, despite her protests. She winked at you once it was over, asking for your opinion on people with scars, and you shrugged, uninterested, remarking you didn't mind either way but reminding her that you really did not see her that way. She didn't stop smiling, blinking her eyes at you like she had something in them, and winking at you, though, for the rest of the night. It was scary how much she could remind you of Piggeh.

Stephano checked and fussed over Mr. Chair before deciding that despite his eye he was okay, before moving onto you, ghosting his fingertips over your throat and asking you whether or not it hurt (yes, it did, but you never liked admitting things like that out loud so you just gave him a look). He told you that your voice would probably be hoarse for a few days, to which Piggeh added, "Not as hoarse as when I finish with you, Pewdie!" He gave you a wink and a cocky grin, to which you ignored, telling him to shut up before telling Stephano to take care of his own busted knuckles, which had long since scabbed but risked infection.

As your group's oldest did this, you all bickered began to bicker back and forth over what to eat. Mr. Chair argued you should all really start eating the fruit you'd found a few days ago before it went bad, while Jennifer said she wanted "real" food. Before long you tuned them out, thinking back to the fight that had happened just a scant hour ago, wondering at the strange things that had happened as the bloodshed started escalating, like the enemies' appearances changing along with some of them actually _plotting_ where before their plan had always been something along the lines of "charge and swing." Also, you couldn't stop thinking about that person you may or may not have seen in the distance as the Bro had had you by the throat. For all you knew, it could have been a hallucination brought on by the lack of oxygen. You would have to remember to ask Stephano if that was possible later on, given that he was quite knowledgeable in the medical field. 

You blinked as the dull murmur of voices suddenly started to increase in volume.

"We are _not_ having pig, that's not even funny, Jennifer!" Piggeh said seriously, and Mr. Chair suddenly blinked, shaking his head slightly as he visibly began focusing on the conversation. It appears you weren't the only one lost in thought.

"I never said we'd have a pig, I said we could have…" She nodded at Piggeh pointedly, an unfriendly smile on her face all the while.

Piggeh yelped, jumping into the unsuspecting Mr. Chair's lap, arms winding around the smaller man's neck, "Save me, Mr. Chair! Crazy chick's finally lost it! I mean, I always knew I looked good, maybe even good enough to eat, but this is a whole new level of admiration of my sexiness, and I don't think I can handle it!" Piggeh was holding pretty tightly onto Mr. Chair, exclamation ringing loudly around camp while he stared Jennifer down, not even realizing that he was suffocating Mr. Chair.

You internally flipped the fuck out but Stephano took care of the situation before you had to, "We will eat the fruit. Piggeh, let go of Mr. Chair before he passes out, and Jennifer, just because Piggeh said something you did not appreciate on the battlefield, that does not warrant jokes about eating him."

Soon you were all sitting around the fire, chewing fruit silently, and pressing shoulders together for warmth against the biting chill that was in the air tonight.

One by one, everyone began to go to bed, until you were the only one left that hadn't turned in for the night just yet. You were staring at the dying fire, thinking hard about what you saw today, when something not too far away caught your attention with the sound of leaves crunching, making you look up quickly.

You met the gaze of a boy hiding behind a white mask before the boy turned quickly and took off.

You leapt up, and before you could really think about what you were doing, you scooped your dagger up off the ground and chased after him.

**Quick note: **So, this was more of a filler than anything, and for that I'm sorry, but now that I've introduced some action into the story, I think the next chapter will be easier to write! So! Keep a look out for that, I guess. It shouldn't be too long. Reviews are always welcome, by the way!


	4. 4: Tables Turned

**Title:** Tänka [according to Google translate, this is a common translation of 'imagine' in its verb form]

**Author:** OpenMindedCranberry

**Thank you: **Just wanted to say thanks to the anonymous reviewers, NumaCrow and FLUFFY EEVEE for reviewing this story, and to all those that have favorite/followed! I really do appreciate it.

**Chapter Four: Tables Turned**

You chased after the boy down the small hill that led from your camp down into the woods, following in his frantic, stumbling footsteps as the two of you slipped and slid down the muddy incline. He didn't hesitate to rush into the dark woods, the dim moonlight being blocked out by the thick overhanging branches of the trees surrounding the both of you, leaving the two of you to run blindly through the dark.

You didn't give up, not even when low branches pulled at your hair, clipped you in the shoulders, not even as brambles began to latch onto your clothing, thick roots tripping you up by slamming painfully into your ankles and shins or somehow catching onto your shoelaces. You couldn't even see him anymore, but you could hear him clambering through the underbrush, slipping, sliding, falling occasionally, and muttering to himself just under his breath.

"Wait!" you yelled after him, getting smacked in the face by the thorny arm of a bush that he'd pushed away from himself. You yelped in pain, slicing instinctively with your dagger, cutting the thin branch out of your path before hurriedly rushing after him, hoping to not have any more sudden encounters like that with the undergrowth of the wood.

The boy didn't slow any in his mad dash through the woods. Or if he did, you couldn't tell. Your breath rushed painfully through your lungs and throat, and you were sure you had swallowed a bug or two. "Who are you?" you yelled after him hoarsely, coughing slightly, as you soldiered on after him, lagging a little.

"Just leave me alone!" the boy finally called back at you, and the exhaustion evident in his own voice fueled your motivation to catch up to him. You quickened your pace, making your strides longer and keeping your head low so as to not smack your forehead into any of the low branches that still hung overhead as you bounded over roots and small thorn bushes. He could hear you coming faster than before, catching up to him, and he groaned in frustration before quickening his pace as well.

There was a difference this time, though. You started to recognize your surroundings because there was a break in the canopy of treetops overhead, allowing the thin, waning moonlight to make an effort to put a dent in the darkness underneath the wood, and you saw a familiar grove of blossom trees and berry bushes. You smiled in relief to yourself, finding it easier to launch yourself over smaller bushes and avoid tripping over large roots. Meanwhile, though, the other boy did not have the same ease as you did, and you winced as he was brought to his knees a couple of times by thick, protruding roots and was caught up by thorns and brambles.

His disadvantage was making it easier for you to gain on him, and the other boy knew this too, if the way he kept throwing looks over his shoulder through that mask of his was any indication. What he probably was too panicked to realize, though, was that the constant looking over the shoulder was serving to further slow him down because as soon as he'd look forward again, he'd be clipped in the shoulder or the side of his mask by a branch, and he'd occasionally trip up over a root or bush.

After a particularly nasty fall of his, you nearly tripped yourself because of the shock of seeing a fair spot of blood on a rock just about half a foot beyond the root that had been the source of his stumbling. You looked after him in the dim, waning, light, with your brow furrowed in concern and worry as he seemed to limp a little. "Hey! Come on, why don't we both catch our breaths and chat for a minute?" you called after him.

He didn't reply, just simply threw another one of those masked looks over his shoulders. This time, though, you pictured he was either slightly confused or incredibly pissed that you'd suggest such a thing. "I swear, I just want to talk!" you yelled after him again when he looked ahead and got clipped on the side of his mask by another branch.

You heard him give a derisive snort at that, making you realize just how close the two of you were distance wise. You couldn't have been more than two yards behind him, and that last clipping of the branch on his mask had sent him stumbling a couple steps to the left. You breathed hard through your nose, leaning forward as you gave your all into catching up to him.

Soon you were close enough that you could reach out and grab him by his clothes.

And so, that was exactly what you did. You just weren't expecting that by doing this, you'd cause him to give a startled shout, tripping over nothing and tumbling forward and down a short slope, taking you with him. Time seemed to drag on by as you realized with heightening terror that you were about to fall down a hill with a sharp dagger in your hand. Then, just as soon as you had made this realization, the glint of the blade mocked you out of the corner of your eye before time sped up once again, and the two of you were falling.

The both of you yelped and hissed in pain when your tumbling descent finally came to a halt. He groaned underneath you, trembling slightly, and you did too, shaking your head in an attempt to get that horrible ringing out from between your ears. He suddenly stiffened and you heard the low rumble of his voice, or actually you more _felt_ it than heard it, considering you were lying atop him with your ear pressed softly against the dip between his shoulder blades. Essentially, he was lying face down in the dirt, with you keeping him pinned there, and if the tenseness of his muscles meant anything, he had realized your positions as well.

Instead of flipping out and stammering apologies, like you normally would have had it been anyone else, you were rather thankful of this change of events. You were in no shape to keep chasing after him. Had it been that the two of you had landed separately and he'd suddenly leapt up, bounding away from you, you would have been unable to even attempt to go after him.

Your body ached in various places across your back, legs, and arms; but the worse blow must have been dealt to your head because it absolutely throbbed. The ringing that you'd been hearing died, leaving the intense throbbing and the sound of your own heartbeat and the blood rushing through your veins to echo about your damaged skull. A rumbling sounded in the ear that was not exposed to the biting chill of the open air, and you blinked your eyes open, shuddering as the light seemed to give a vicious attempt at drilling into your brain.

You groaned, feeling sick, and the rumbling sounded again, except this time you were able to just barely make it out.

"_-etter be okay… Can't move… Weight pinning me down… Oh, god… Don't get sick on me… Seriously are… Okay?" _

You opened your eyes again, sucking in a sharp breath as you remembered what had happened. You squinted in the too bright light, turning your face into the warmth underneath you despite an adorably startled squeak that resulted in the action. You mumbled groggily, " 'M gonna throw up…" before straining to push yourself into an upright position, turning to the side just in time to violently spew your dinner onto the ground.

You swallowed convulsively when you were done, blinking slowly at the puddle of sick before turning away as the smell made your nose crinkle in disgust. You looked down at the moving warmth beneath you, finding the masked boy attempting to inch away from the mess.

"Gross, man…! Now, will you get off?! I really don't like the idea of being trapped underneath you, forced to smell your puddle of puke, okay?" he griped anxiously, struggling for a moment before falling still and silent.

You stared blearily down at him, not making any move to get off of him, and you reached slowly up to investigate a weird tickling sensation that was happening on the side of your face. Your fingers squished into something warm and… goopy. Your eyes widened a bit and you trembled as panicked thoughts entered your pounding head. _'Oh my god, is that my brain? Am I literally touching my brain right now?!'_ Your breathing quickened as you pulled a trembling hand from your temple to your line of view, and you sighed in relief after discovering it was simply blood. Quite a bit of blood, sure, but it was only blood, and this _was_ a head wound, so of course it would bleed a lot. You probably couldn't die from this.

"…okay? Hello?"

You blinked at the boy underneath you, who was reaching back and patting your leg frantically because he couldn't exactly turn and look up at you when you were holding him down like this. "Are you okay?" he was asking, sounding genuinely concerned.

You nodded, momentarily forgetting that he couldn't see you, and then spoke, "'S'only a head 'ound." Your voice was painful sounding, even to yourself, and you cringed when he started trying to push himself up again.

"Let me see it," he was saying, not quite trying to throw you off of him, but more attempting to rock you gently to the side away from your puddle of sick.

The new situation caught up to you, your understanding of it occurring much more slowly than it would have normally. When you finally did comprehend what he was asking of you, you panicked slightly as you began to slide backwards a little ways as he attempted sitting up underneath you. You bopped him suddenly on the back of his head with a closed fist, "No!"

"Ow! What the hell?!" he snapped, stopping immediately.

For some reason, you began to giggle practically uncontrollably as he rubbed at the back of his head. "S-sorry, bro…"

"You don't sound sorry," he said shortly, crossing his arms and resigning himself to his position in the dirt. "I can't believe I was actually worried for you. I don't even know you! And here you are, hitting me in the back of the head after being the reason why we both took that tumble in the first place!" He huffed angrily, muttering, "Whatever's wrong with your head, you deserve it…"

You stopped giggling at that. "I'm sorry," you said, sounding very small and almost childish to your own ears. "I-I didn't know that we were gonna fall like that. I jus' wanted you to stop, stop running…"

He sighed underneath you, speaking up again, only this time he sounded like he was talking to a very small child, "Well, I've stopped running now. You mind getting off of me?"

"No, I can't!" you exclaimed, grabbing onto the back of his thin sweatshirt, fingers pinching into the material. Your eyes squinted at the individual threads that you could just barely make out, and you frowned, closing your eyes and seeing a white gown of some sort with open ties on the back, patterned in a childish print of honey bees and summer flowers. You blinked, and the bees and flowers disappeared, and you found yourself staring intensely at the rumpled, dirty, sweatshirt of the boy underneath you.

"Uh, yes, you can. It's really easy, actually. Just stand up. Or, if you can't do that, you can always just slump over to the side. Not the one where you puked, of course, but if you want to, you can do that, too. Lots of options you got there, man." He continued to talk in that condescending tone of his, like he thought you were stupid or something.

Your grip tightened just a bit and you hissed, "How do I know you won't run, if I do that? That's right! I don't. So, we're gonna stay like this until you answer all of my questions." Despite feeling slightly sick once again, you were actually very proud of yourself for not stuttering or forgetting where you were while saying that.

"Fine," the boy grumped from underneath you, "But we can't stay like this forever, you know."

"Just long enough," you snapped back, swallowing down bile. He was silent as you schooled yourself, trying to calm your racing heart and blink the blurred vision from your eyes. "Who are you?"

He mumbled something that you didn't quite catch, and you grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him. "Speak up!"

He growled a little, "I said, I don't know!"

You stopped, breath catching in your throat, and you released his shoulders like they'd burned you. You didn't even have to close your eyes this time to remember.

_You were very small, stumbling around the large wood. It was After, and you'd only just woken up here. You couldn't recall your own name, but you knew that something terrible had happened for you to end up here. You could remember a man and a woman, both much larger than you. Adults, your mind supplied for you as you thought of them but couldn't remember their names. You remembered them, and you remembered yourself, the three of you had been in a car. Then there'd been a loud noise, and suddenly the woman wasn't in the car anymore. Or, at least, all of her wasn't in the car anymore. Her face and upper body had gone through the windshield, staining the glass an ugly red that dripped through the spider-webbed cracks that spread from where the rest of her body was left inside, hanging down to slump over the dashboard and rest against the front of her seat. That had been Before. Before you came here and was left to your own devices in this large, open, space you'd never seen before with trees that seemed to go on forever. You remember coming upon some rather peculiar looking people with grotesque features of their own. You'd smiled, calling out a friendly hello to them, like you somehow knew you were supposed to. You knew someone had told you that that was how you were to act, but you couldn't remember who had told you that or how you knew that but couldn't remember it. Anyways, the people turned and stared at you before coming at you at an alarming pace, one of them lashing out at you once he'd gotten close, catching you just above your ear with a knife-like weapon that appeared to be protruding from his hand like a finger. You had screamed then, with pain and terror, turning and running as fast as your little feet could carry you. As you began to tire, you found yourself caught around the waist by golden, warm arms, and you shrieked again, only to come face to face with a worried, but friendly-looking older boy. He called you Pewdie, short for Pewdiepie, and he raced with you in his arms, out of the woods and into a clearing where you found your friends._

You blinked as you came to yourself, breathing harshly, and you stammered, "A-are you from B-Before?"

"From when?" he asked, confused.

You shook your head, saying quickly, "Never mind." You calmed yourself once again before asking, "Alright. If you don't know your name, then what do you know?"

"Well, I know that wherever we are, there are a shit ton of monsters. I know that you and those colorful kids fight them a lot." He sounded bored while talking, but it seemed like he was doing it on purpose. Why? You weren't sure.

"What about before you got here? If you don't know where you are, you must have been somewhere before, right?" you ask, and he tenses once he realizes his mistake.

He sighs, a long exhale of his breath, and he seems to kind of slump in on himself a little bit. "Look, I really don't know a lot, okay? Before I got here, I can remember being really scared and running down a long hallway to get to a door, but I don't know anything else. I don't know why, or when, or where. I can't remember if I ever reached that door or what happened if I did. So can we stop it with the twenty questions, already?"

You felt your frustration building and you shoved off his shoulders, leaning back and crossing your arms despite the wave of dizziness and nausea that came over you as you did so. "Do you know how long you've been here?"

He slowly shifted, resting his chin in the cup of his hand now that you weren't holding him down by the shoulders anymore. "I think maybe a day…?" he shrugged, "Why?"

You licked your dry lips, eyebrows pulling together again. "Were you watching me and my friends earlier this morning? When we were fighting the monsters?" Though he couldn't see it, you put your fingers up to put quotes around the word _monsters_. It sounded sort of childish and too general of a term to you now that you'd given each species of creature a name here.

"Yeah, that was me." He said, "I watched you guys get your asses kicked until that gold dude started dancing around and making blood and guts fly. What about it?"

You paused slightly at the outside description of Stephano, and smiled, immensely proud of your friend, before answering him, "I saw you and I just wanted to be sure… Also, the monsters have been acting really weird lately, and then you show up…" You shrugged, "I was wondering if it were somehow connected."

"Well, I haven't interacted with them much. I mostly just avoid them, so…" He trailed off, not caring.

You frowned, "Alright. But if you're going to continue staying here, make sure you do watch out for them. They're… changing, for some reason. So be careful."

"Changing how?" he asked, suddenly sounding interested.

You sighed around your throbbing head, trying to recall exactly what you saw. "Well, the Barrels, those are the short, squat little guys with sunglasses, they're looking more menacing. I swear, I saw _faces_ in their skin… Like, they'd swallowed a crowd of people and those people were still alive, pressing their faces against the insides of the Barrels and screaming for help…"

"Are you sure you didn't hit your head while fighting them, too?" He asked.

You shook your head. "No! I couldn't have. The Bros didn't throw me to the ground, not even once! And the Bros are those big guys with the huge, gaping mouths, by the way. They're changing, too. Their mouths are bigger, for one, and their teeth are all broken and shit like huge broken blades of knives or some shit. Plus, the TNM, those teleporting naked men… You know, the human-looking creeps with their junk hanging out? They're starting to grab people… They didn't used to do that. Before, they'd trip you up or jump-scare you, or even corral you so that the Bros had an easier time getting to you, but now it's like they're getting smarter or something!"

"And you think I've got something to do with this?" He didn't sound amused.

"Well, what else could have been the catalyst? I mean, they didn't used to do that kind of shit! And now that they are, you're here." You snapped at him.

He sighed, "Well, look who knows big words… Anyways, I swear I didn't do anything to train your monsters to fight… or whatever. So will you let me go?"

You sighed in resignation, pushing up a bit to ready yourself for the act of standing up. Your head was reeling, in both questions and with the pain of your injury. You were sure by now that you had a slight concussion and the various bruises that you could feel blooming across your skin under your clothes made you want to start taking things easy for a while. But just as you started to stand up, the boy twisted suddenly, rushing up underneath you and grabbing you, pulling you back down to the ground, and trapping you underneath him.

The tables had been turned.

"Now, it's your turn to answer my questions," he said, sounding rather proud of himself for accomplishing this feat.

Normally, you would have had no problem pushing your opponent off of you because you were actually quite strong despite your lithe, skinny appearance. But the head wound coupled with the fact that the masked boy was holding your dagger to your throat in a confident, sure grip, sort of caught you off guard.

**Quick author's note: Once again, reviews are appreciated! Break is coming up for me on Thursday, so I might be able to crank another chapter out for all of you this week. Please, please, review? They really keep me motivated and make me smile! Anyways, I hope you all have a great week. **

**Until next time,**

**~OpenMindedCranberry**


	5. 5: Concussed

**Title:** Tänka [according to Google translate, this is a common translation of 'imagine' in its verb form]

**Author:** OpenMindedCranberry

**I am blushing right now:** I just got four amazing reviews on my fourth chapter to this story! I'm so happy right now, I just, I can't… Focusing is hard. :P Anyways, thank you **Shhhh** (anon reviewer), **NumaCrow** (returning anon reviewer :D), **lackingcutiepie6**, and **ashes-rain-in-the-night** (Did you base your profile name off of a song lyric? I'm just curious).

_Previously: _

"_Now, it's your turn to answer my questions," he said, sounding rather proud of himself for accomplishing this feat._

_Normally, you would have had no problem pushing your opponent off of you because you were actually quite strong despite your lithe, skinny appearance. But the head wound coupled with the fact that the masked boy was holding your dagger to your throat in a confident, sure grip, sort of caught you off guard. _

**Chapter Five:**

Ever since you'd arrived in this endless stretch of woodland, you'd come across things that you could only expect from nightmares and people who cared for you immensely from the beginning despite being perfect strangers when you'd first met. You'd encountered wondrous things that you'd only ever expected to be simple illusions and you had stared in the faces of horrible creatures with all things ranging from disbelief to horror to fear to elation.

After many years, you'd come to accept this new reality. You'd come to accept it with open arms with the help of your new friends, who were more family to you than anything now, and soon there'd been no doubt in your mind that this was your new home, despite the constant dangers that lurked between branches and crawled beneath the underbrush and dark canopies of tall oaks that littered the rolling hills and fields.

But despite never quite being able to explore the entirety of this place, despite trekking through the woods to cross stream after stream, meet the same small waterfalls, and come upon similar broken and jagged cliffs, all the while fighting the same creatures you had been fighting since the day you got here, you had never met someone or come across something quite like this masked boy.

You had thought that you may have imagined his presence during that battle against the creatures that happened early today. You had thought that perhaps the sudden changing of the creatures around you had sparked some sort of figment of your own mind to appear before you, across the field and inside the bushes of the woodland. You had even thought that perhaps you'd passed out from oxygen deprivation, and so you'd dreamt that white face.

But no, it was all very real. He had been real. Not imagined. Not dreamt. But real.

And his realness was becoming more apparent with every passing moment you spent with him. You could touch him, something that was proven when you'd grabbed his clothing and sent the both of you tumbling down that small hill. You could feel him touching you, which he was doing right now as he rested his knees into the palms of your hands while he sat atop you, making sure you were practically immobile.

He had thoughts; he could voice his own opinion. He had emotions; he'd shown concern for you when you'd been struggling to get a hold of yourself after the crippling affect of the head injury dragged on by in its passing. He had goals, wants; that was what this was all for, wasn't it? He wants information, wants you to answer his questions.

And so here the two of you are. He is on top of you, much like you were on him. The only difference is that you are on your back and he is doing an amazing job at keeping you restrained.

Oh, and the head injury. You'd almost forgotten that as well.

You are most definitely concussed, and this concussion of yours is fucking with your thought process, making it hard to tell exactly what is going on because the world just won't stop spinning. Objects get big, get close, and then they shrink. Colors have a kaleidoscope effect around you. The sky is purpling like a fresh bruise and peeling to reveal the green flesh of a young tree. The few clouds swim above you, wavering and dancing like they're drunk and confused, billowing with a sort of calming aura.

And those trees… They're the worse. They grow and stretch, branching upwards towards that nauseating sky. They stretch and reach, like they want to reach for outer space or something. Like they want to stretch and reach so much that they just uproot and fly away. And you can't take your eyes off of them.

But then there's this white blob that's taking up your vision and for a moment you think it's the moon. But then the moon holds up its thumb and forefinger, rubbing them together harsh and quick, a snapping noise echoing in your head.

And you blink, suddenly coming back to yourself. You're lying on the ground, that masked boy is on top of you; there is no moon because the sun is coming up, the trees have stopped stretching, and there is an annoying tickling sensation at your temple. It must be the blood.

"Fuck…" you breathe, because now it is you who is at a major disadvantage.

He is holding a knife at your neck, after all. Your dagger, to be exact, and isn't that a little embarrassing?

"Stay with me, man…" He's muttering above you, ready to snap his fingers at you again and you tense, whispering a harsh, "_Don't_."

You think he's smiling now. "_There_ you are. I was about ready to lose my shit. You really don't look good."

"I have a concussion," you say distantly, looking back up at that purple and green sky that makes you want to puke. You want to add a _'and you're not helping'_ to that, but decide that maybe you shouldn't do that to the guy who has your dagger.

Fingers grip your chin, turning your head to the side, and there's not much you can do about it. Even if he is just turning your head to get a better angle at slicing your neck open, you are a bit out of sorts right now and have no chance of fighting back against him, never mind the notion to call out to your friends. Would they even hear you? How far did you chase this guy? You've got no idea.

There's a worried intake of breath above you and then pain blossoms across your temple, making your vision white out and your mouth cry out. Oh well, at least you can't see that sky anymore. But then it comes back and you're gasping, face turned into the ground and he's dabbing carefully around your bloodied temple with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologizes quickly, sounding shaken. "I was just trying to clean some of the dirt and stuff from the cut…"

"S'okay…" you murmur, closing your eyes. You're exhausted.

"No, no, wait! Don't go to sleep!" He pats the side of your face and your eyes fly open at once. Why does he have to keep touching you? It's kind of annoying. Even Piggeh isn't this bad, you think distantly, but then immediately correct yourself because even with this boy practically straddling your waist, pinning your hands down, and touching all parts of your face and head, he does not come close to Piggeh.

"What's your name?" he asks, desperation creeping into his tone. He drags his sleeve across your temple and it throbs with irritation. You hope the blood is drying and it's started scabbing.

You don't answer for a moment, focusing instead on how his fingers have started sweeping your hair away from your temple, picking through it and pulling apart the tangles there caused by blood. But then he repeats the question, and you answer, "Pewdiepie."

He stills for a moment before asking, "Is that your real name?"

You sigh through your nose, your eyes falling close again, but you don't attempt to go to sleep yet. "If you're trying to keep me conscious, you should attempt doing a better job. Asking me nonsensical questions like that will put me to sleep."

He huffs a laugh at that, but it comes out strangled. "Have you ever had a concussion before?"

You open your eyes, "Yeah. They're not fun."

He nods in agreement before holding a few fingers in front of your face. "How many fingers do you see?"

You try to focus, but he keeps moving them. "It'd be easier to tell if you'd stop moving them so much."

"I'm not moving them at all, Pewds."

Your eyes widen in surprise as he says exactly what you'd been thinking, "Shit!"

"Don't freak out," you mumble, "It's just gonna make me upset."

"I'm sorry? You want me to just ignore the blood gushing from your head?" He says snidely before wiping a little too fiercely at your temple, bringing his sleeve to your line of view.

It's soaked.

Fuck, maybe that's why you're so light headed.

"Well dabbing at it isn't going to do anything," you instruct, feeling slightly irritated. "Put pressure on it."

He does as you tell him to within the second, and then begins to ramble. "If I'd known it was this bad, I wouldn't have pulled any of that funky shit, flipping your over like that. You were just a moment ago. I must have reopened it or something. Wow, I'm an asshole."

"You're not an asshole," you roll your eyes. "Stop whining about it."

"How can you be so calm about this?! I haven't seen this much blood since…!" He cuts himself off unexpectedly, suddenly focused on the pressure he's putting on your temple.

You try to look up at him, try and gauge what he's thinking, but all you see is that damned mask. "Since…?" you question.

He answers shortly, "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

You groan in frustration and slight pain as he shifts, the sleeve dragging across the fresh, newly opened wound.

"Okay, just focus on my voice, okay, Pewdie? Don't fall asleep. I'm going to ask you a bunch of random questions, to keep you awake until I stem or slow this blood flow. Then, once I've done that, you're going to go back to those colorful people." He takes a breath, "What's your favorite color?"

You giggle and blame it on the blood loss. "Pink."

"What? _Really_?" He sounds disbelieving.

"What do you mean '_really'_?" you mimic, feigning offense. "Of course it is! And you know why? 'Cause I'm _fabulous!_"

That earns you a startled, full-bellied, laugh, which makes you smile because that's exactly what you'd been hoping for. Maybe once he's calmed the fuck down, he'll actually be able to concentrate on what he's doing.

"What is this place?" he asks after a brief moment of silence.

You stop at that one, thinking, because despite your many years spent growing up here, you're not exactly sure either. "Honestly, I guess I don't know." You admit quietly. "When I was little, Stephano used to tell me this place was mine. He told that to me so much that I actually started to believe it. But I think if it were really mine, it'd have a name."

"Well I guess you've just got to name it," he says after taking your answer in. His hands are more steady, more sure, now. They aren't slipping all over the place, so either he's calmed down or the blood flow has started to slow.

"Maybe," you say. "But why should I? It isn't mine. It doesn't matter if Stephano said that to me when I was just a child because that was just him trying to make me feel safe and comfortable here. And besides, if this place were mine, why are there fucking monsters all over?"

He doesn't have anything to say to that for a while and soon you begin to teeter on the edge of consciousness as the two of you remain there in silence.

Then he speaks up, "Everyone has their demons, their secrets, their nightmares… Maybe the monsters are yours?"

Before you can say anything to that, he's standing up off of you and holding a hand out to help you up. You take it with a little confusion. "I thought you were going to interrogate me?"

His mask has slipped up a bit, and you can see him smirk. "I just did."

Then he turns from you and starts heading up that hill you both tumbled down. "Grab your knife; we're heading back to your camp. And don't worry, I'm just escorting you. Gotta be nice to the damsel in distress and all that, right?"

You look down, spotting your dagger lying amongst the leaves. He must've set it down quite a while ago. You pick it up and follow him. "Hey, I make a _fabulous_ damsel!"

He cracks up laughing again and you grin, feeling a little proud of yourself for some reason.

**Quick note: I'm not too sure how I feel about this chapter, but don't be afraid to tell me how you feel! Also, I think I'm slowly working towards a PewdieCry shipping story, so if that isn't your cup of tea, I apologize and you can flame me all you want. **


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